


the witch behind the counter

by tillloveburnusall



Series: bewitched [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, M/M, Unspecified Setting, small town
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24064276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tillloveburnusall/pseuds/tillloveburnusall
Summary: Kun gave his body to others many times before, but he doesn't think one ever had his soul like Yangyang does.He hopes he can keep it like this.
Relationships: Liu Yang Yang/Qian Kun
Series: bewitched [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736068
Comments: 11
Kudos: 51
Collections: Weishen Fest: ANYTHING BUT HUMAN





	the witch behind the counter

Kun is sixteen when he meets Magic for the first time.

It feels like the last drop of hope in the middle of a war, like finding the fountain of youth, like breathing for the first time.

It’s been four hundred since then and somehow the buzz beneath his flesh every time he uses Magic still feels the same. Surpassing. The greatest blessing and the ultimate curse at the same.

While the wind blows around him, Kun feels Magic and nothing else. At first, it was enough to make him happy, but against all the cons Kun is still human and it’s their nature long for what they can’t have.

Eternity and Magic stood by his side. Still, it wasn't enough.

Some years later after his bond, is when he decides to open a small shop in the middle of the town where Magic has chosen him. Her whispers would follow him through the world, but only a small town forgotten by even God himself, was what he could call home.

Time passed and there he was.

For humans, it looked like a simple flower shop, with the rarest plants growing under Kun’s touch, but for supernatural creatures, that were getting fewer day by day, it was a place where they could get whatever they needed to survive in such a hostile world.

To his people, he had elixirs for those who dared to mess with the fae – though that would be much more expensive –, ropes brewed with silver for impulsive werewolves and vampire’s teeth for the ones who lacked good luck.

To the human folk, he dealt Marigolds and Forget-Me-Nots, for the good-intentioned hearts Ghost Orchids and Middlemists.

Kun is a witch and although he had knowledge of all creatures who walked on earth he hadn’t met any other of his own kind.

But he was patient, he knew he had to wait and was fine with that. At least is what he tells himself every turn of the sun.

That's probably where the story starts, in the waiting.

…

It’s a sunny Wednesday when Kun finally receives his lot of Lilies.

It’s a good day.

His town is a common attraction to crows, apparently, but that evening, on that special Wednesday, there was no crow in sight.

Kun hummed along with the wind, burying his hands in a great amount of earth while one of the watering cans floated around, wetting the sunflowers. He needed them pretty and strong before the end of the day so he could form a bouquet and leave it in the staircase of Haechan, his neighbor. The boy who spent his mornings crying and nights screaming.

Kun always thought he he held a beautiful and bold smile. It brought others happiness just by looking at it. Nowadays he only smiled when Kun appeared on his front porch with a random bouquet.

Even then, it never really reached his eyes.

Haechan wasn’t a supernatural being. If he had any trait of Magic in him as some humans did, Kun would feel it right away. But in the boy’s case, Magic seemed to adore him, his lovely and cheerful aura. And if Magic liked someone, so did Kun.

His thoughts about Haechan are interrupted when an explosion of feelings and smells hit him. Kun could feel supernatural energy. _Flow_ , some would say. It isn’t a surprise when even before the person comes near his shop he can feel the waves of Magic coming from them.

The thing is, Kun never felt anything like _this_ before.

Flows could only be sensed by witches. Some dryads were pretty sensitive and they would get a _hint_ but they only would feel so much without getting overwhelmed.

Witches, as far as Kun knew, were creatures crafted by Magic, they were the pure pulse of life with her and nothing but a hollow without it. This type of connection obviously made them empathetic to any kind of energy.

Werewolves and Demons had enticing flows, Kun would see red just by looking at them, they burned his tongue. Vampires were cold and he always felt out of place next to them, blue and ice fulfilling his senses.

He never felt any witch flow before, as they were extremely rare.

But when his door opens and a dark-haired boy enters his shop, Kun sees purple, tastes cotton candy and smells raindrops.

This kid, with inhumanly dark eyes and lips holy full, this kid was pure Magic.

He was blessed. He was cursed. He was doomed.

He was a witch.  
…

The boy, Kun came to realize, is oblivious to Magic.

He nods to Kun and goes straight in the direction of the fresh lilies, his eyes glimmering with satisfaction and curiosity.

He could feel how Magic floated around him, idolizing, protecting but full of resent and sorrow all at once.

Before the boy can go from the lilies to the sunflowers, Kun speaks.

“If it’s a gift, you should give a go to the Orchids.” His tone is gentle and at the same time, influenced by Magic, edgy. He hides his shaking hands behind his back, and coughs out the strange feeling. “Was a good season for them.”

The boy glances at him, black eyes almost dragging his entire being to their infinity.

“It’s not.” His response is simple and smooth, but the way he pulls his fingers nervously shows nothing but uneasiness. “I just moved and my apartment it’s a bit too… _Gloomy.”_

Kun moves quietly, eyes in the pots but his attention completely focused on the younger witch. He can feel Magic getting impatient, the wind blowing too strong and dark clouds cutting through the sky.

He lets out a short breath, feeling his own mood sink.

“This happens quite often here, right? The climate changes, I mean.” The boy’s voice is fascinated and just like that, by the utter pleasure that Kun feels with the prospect of this young and naive witch being spellbind by Magic, the sky loses its weight. Like nothing ever happened, in a bit of a minute, the clouds disappear giving space to the cleanest and azure sky they had in weeks. “Wow! Did you see that?”

The smile spread across the boy’s face, he decides, it’s worth all the stress.

…

The boy’s name, Kun finds out, is Yangyang. Liu Yangyang.

He’s twenty-one, lived the last nine years of his life in Germany and it’s currently running away from a ghost called Minhyung.

“He’s not bad, you know?” Yangyang is a fast speaker but Kun is a great listener so they work right in their own way. “It’s just that I’m the only one who can see him and it’s driving me crazy. And he’s not even the only one, I’ve already gone through five psychiatrists and none of them can say what’s wrong with me.”

He sighs heavily, taking another sip of his coffee in one of Kun’s special mugs.

After the weather show in the shop, Yangyang decided that they were already close enough to share important information like names, birthdates and whether they could see poltergeists or not. After one or two hours of chatting, Kun invited him to a cup of coffee in the upper part of the shop, where he had made his house.

“You must think I’m crazy too, right?” Yangyang asks, leaning towards Kun and he could call himself a madman, but never the kid with the mischievous smile in front of him.

“Of course not.”

“Are you sure?”

Kun smiles, and for the first time in what seems millennia, there’s not even a hint of boredom on it.“I saw plenty of _crazy_ things to think you are the crazy one, Yangs.”

If Kun were even a bit more distracted he would have lost the way the boy almost choked in his breath, eyes big and pretty.

Although Yangyang looked the most beautiful being he had ever laid his eyes upon, Kun did not hold the wish of making the younger one uncomfortable, so instead he opted for asking the other if he wanted to help choosing the flowers that he would use to make Haechan’s bouquet.

“Are you guys dating?” It was asked in the lightest tone and at first, the older witch thought he heard all wrong. The idea was just ridiculous, besides the fact that he had seen Haechan grow up (not that the boy knew this), the kid was still mourning his boyfriend’s death, for god sakes.

But Yangyang didn’t know this, so instead of throwing all at him, Kun just mumbled a perturbed no that made the boy laugh for about two minutes and he smile for the double of time.

…

With Yangyang running around his shop instead of helping and Kun smiling every time the younger found something that would make him squeal in excitement, it takes more time than necessary for them to complete their tasks, but by the start of the night they already had three packs of flowers ready.

One for Haechan, one for Yangyang and one for Kun (made by the younger one to “brighten his day”).

On his way out, Yangyang insisted that he wanted to give the bouquet too, claiming that he helped, so he should also deliver it. They had met just that day and Kun already couldn’t deny him anything, he didn’t want to think what would be in the future.

Before he could knock on the door, however, Kun pulled his wrist into his hands with the most delicate grip, ignoring the way the boy looked at their hands together and the blush creeping through his face.

“Speak softly to Haechanie, ok?” His voice drops a quarter and he knows he sounds like an overprotective parent, but it’s almost impossible to avoid it. “He lost his boyfriend three weeks ago in a car accident and god knows how terrible it was. He’s hurt and barely gets out of the house but he's the best kid I’ve ever met so… Just be nice to him, ok?”

After he finished, the thought of having trespassed the limit of a new bond crossed his mind but Yangyang just nodded and smiled, knocking more softly into the door and then stepping back to Kun’s side. He tried asking if they were good but the boy just kept looking at the wood surface.

“Don’t think too much, it's cool… Worry is care, after all.”

Before any of them can say anything else, the door is opened and Haechan appears, round eyes looking a bit less swollen and auburn hair not sticking to all directions of the world, instead brushed and even shiny.

“Kun hyung… and Kun’s hyung friend!” His smile broadens at the way Haechan eyes sparkle along with the dazzling smile he shows them.

“Hachanie, this is Yangyang. Yang, this is Haechan.” While Haechan nods, Yangyang says nothing, eyes petrified in something inside Haechan's house. 

Kun looks in the same direction, but there’s nothing to see. Before he can worry more, the boy shakes his head and a broken smile finds its way on his face.

“Nice to meet you, Donghyuck.”

...

The door closes with the wind pushing it to its own axis, Magic ruling her own will in the ambient. Kun doesn't mind, in his place, Magic has free reign over anything he possesses.

“He knew Haechan’s real name… _How?”_ His voice is not demanding, more like a plea, but sounds too out of place in the silence of his living room.

_I can’t speak for him, my child. Don’t ask me what I can’t give you._

His eyelids are heavy and he doesn’t fight against the tiredness that sits on his bones.

That night, Kun dreams.

There are lilies, soft touches, and pitch-black eyes.

…

It takes an awful lot of time till Kun and Yangyang reunite.

It happens three days before the winter solstice and Kun is trying to find dried salve to finish a potion for Xiaojun, an adorable child who had fallen ill.

He was a lovely child and in a couple of months, he would become a lovely werewolf. That is it, if Kun could find at least one good portion of dried salve.

He’s blending with the crowd, trying not to attract unwanted attention when someone bumps into him, making both of them fall to the ground.

It just hits Kun that he can’t feel Yangyang’s flow when the boy is already over him, wide eyes in worry.

“Kun!” He can feel others eyes on him, but none of them burn like the one from the witch in front of him. Shaking his head, with the other’s help, he gets to his feet, breath stuck at his throat.

“That’s me.” _Really? What is wrong with me?_ He thinks to himself, trying to avoid the piercing gaze that comes from the other as both of them walk away from the agglomeration.

Yangyang doesn’t seem to be bothered by his lack of communication skills, and keeps walking, looking exhausted and still the most beautiful creature he ever saw in his damned life.

“Sorry, I’m not sleeping well lately, I guess.” He says, Kun nods and tries to hold his tongue back from asking what’s getting his sleep troubled or even from offering to give him some of his dragon’s tears (few knew that just some drops could make a person sleep for two hours and wake up like they slept the whole day) but the way Yangyang yawns and blinks his eyes tells that it’s not the best moment for this.

Instead, Kun offers him a cup of peppermint tea.

…

Yangyang sleeping sprawled on his couch is Kun’s new definition of peace of mind.

He doesn’t linger around too much though, he still needs to help Dejun and in less than twenty minutes Ms. Xiao will be on his front door wondering if she’s gonna need to tie her son down on a marble pillar.

Kun knew that it did not matter how adorable and powerful this new witch was, he could not let his people suffer. He pats the younger one’s head one more time and whispers some words of care to the wind before closing the door carefully.

As expected, Xiao Mei biting her nails is the very first thing Kun sees when he opens the shop’s door.

She looks and _feels_ disturbed, her usually calming aura, now agitated, her fear sour on his tongue.

“I know you said you’d look for us when you had what was necessary but…” She trails off, shutting her eyes close, making Kun wonder if she had any sleep since Dejun presented. “He just screams, this shouldn’t happen before the moon got in her highest, something is off.”

He motions to the woman come in and backflips the open sign.

For the next hour and a half, he brews potions while using his last supply of dried salve, which he knows will not be enough to make Dejun’s change easier, but at least it would strengthen the bond between human and wolf. 

As a way to make up for his slack, Kun tells her that the potions will be free of charges and that in three days he’s gonna have the full potion completed.

She thanks him and leaves, shoulders lighter and a weak smile.

He watches her and when he is alone again asks the wind to watch the kid for him, letting his broom work all the dirt out of the way.

When he faces the staircase, by pure coincidence, Yangyang is there, face pale as a ghost.

The clock ticks and for the first time in his existence, Kun hates Magic.

…

None of them say anything, Kun tasting the bitter sadness of a heartbreak he hadn’t felt in decades.

He feels wrecked under Yangyang’s suspicious gaze and tries not to shrink into a smaller form so he won’t be highlighted.

“You– _What do you want from me?_ ” Suddenly, Yangyang’s eyes are clouded with a different type of emotion, something much darker, borderline scared. Kun’s heart clenches inside his chest. “You are one of _them_ , aren’t you?”

He moves in the boy’s direction, but the other retracts with exasperation.

“Of course you are!” Yangyang is distracted enough to not perceive the windows shaking and the plants shying away in fear but Kun is not. He doesn’t try to reach the other witch again though, instead he just mutters some protection spells under his breath.

He knew, by his own experience, that an angry witch could be destructive as a tornado if provoked. And even if a small part of him wanted to see all the annihilation that such a pretty powerful creature could do, he loved his ground too much and wouldn’t let anyone wreck it.

“All of you, _things_ , want something that I don’t have!” Magic crawls through the ambient like a snake and Kun knows that will not hurt him, but also won’t think twice before tearing down every piece of his town if Yangyang wants her to. “I already said this before, and I’m saying it again…”

The floor starts shaking.

_“Leave.”_

Thunder growls in the sky, the sound making Kun’s ears hurt.

_“Me.”_

Yangyang’s eyes are not black anymore but emerald green, pupils split in a way that makes him look as beautiful as lethal.

_“Alone.”_

The sound of the door slamming is torturous. This time, when Magic whispers tries reaching him through the wind, Kun ignores it.

…

Three days after Yangyang’s departure, Xiao Dejun appears on his front porch.

A straw hat pulled all way down his face, hiding precious – and now dangerous – golden eyes and a bucket of blueberries swinging on small hands.

He tries imagining Dejun becoming a creature twice as big as him, with fangs capable of tearing anything or being apart. Desolation crawls through his skin with the image he pictures.

 _He is just ten, merely a boy._ He thinks to himself as the kid approaches him, bouncing as innocent as a child can be and he knows that the inner beast didn’t corrupt him. Yet.

He remembers himself that if the potion works, the kid won’t be corrupted, ever. He tries not to think about everything that could possibly go wrong with this.

“You have a pretty shop, sir.” The childish voice brings a smile to Kun’s face and he messes the boy’s hair, making him gasp. “No! Sir, stop it! Mom and I are going to visit grandma later!”

Kun laughs but stops anyways, watching the boy huff and place his hair back into its place.

They both sit at the staircase in front of Kun’s shop, Dejun’s back against one of the pillars and his face against the sun. Kun already can see some whites locks between the brown strands of the kid's hair, the sight makes him shiver. "Are you sad?"

The kid’s question startles Kun but he answers it nonetheless, “Yes.”

“Why?”

“I–” Kun needs to clean his throat before continuing, eyes glassy, “I hurt someone for whom I care deeply and I don’t think he will be capable of forgiving so soon.”

“Hm…” Dejun’s small legs start dangling in the air, almost making Kun coo at the adorable child by his side. “Mom always says that when you hurt someone the best you can do is apologize and give them time to heal. You told him about how much you care about him?”

“We just met.”

“So what?” As summoned, Ms. Xiao appears at the bottom of the hill, her hands full of small packages as she talks to someone who is much taller than her and seems vaguely familiar but isn’t close enough to let Kun grasp a face. He turns back to Dejun. “Time is relative to the matters of Magic and Love, they walk side by side, you know? My grandpa said so.”

The sun lays upon Dejun’s head and at that moment Kun is not so sure that the boy besides him is just a small kid.

“What I’m trying to say is…” Dejun’s smile is so big that he feels the necessity to give it back at the same portion, “ If you hurt someone, you’ll just be forgiven if you had asked to be so.”

Dejun runs towards his mother, without sparing the person who walks beside her any glances. Kun feels sympathy, he knows how the kid could be with strangers.

His train of thought is lost when said stranger raises his head carefully, staring directly at Kun.

Black eyes like the storm's eye pierce into his soul. His head spins, making him lose balance and before he can realize, he is already falling.

…

Someone is boiling water in his kitchen. That’s the first thing Kun notices as soon as he’s awake.

He tries to get up, but his head hurts and his vision is blurry. It takes some minutes for him to realize that he is in his bedroom.

He looks straight into the window, facing his own image in the blurred glass. His hair is a bird’s nest, cheeks are red and his eyes are shining in such an unnatural shade of purple that he forces himself to look away.

Someone knocks on his door and when he looks up, Yangyang is standing on his doorframe looking distressed, worried, and tired. Kun tries holding his gaze, but Yangyang's eyes are watching him like a hawk, so he averts his attention to the small wrinkles in his coat.

“I’m making you tea.” He hears footsteps coming closer to his bed and looks up, finding Yangyang sitting on the edge of his bed. “Apple tea was the only thing that I was sure wasn’t poisonous so… _Yeah._ ”

“I like apple tea.” He mumbles, massaging his knuckles and letting soft breaths slowly out. Somehow, he knows that Yangyang is smiling right now.

“That’s good.”

Silence stretches between them like a cord and when Yangyang speaks again, Kun is not sure whether they were in silence for minutes or hours.

“What you were doing?” He asks, voice small and soft. Kun melts. “That day, I mean.”

“You don’t need to do this, Yangyang.” Kun answers instead, because he really doesn’t. If Yangyang is willing to stay, he won’t need to do anything that he doesn’t like. Kun will make sure of it.

“I know.” He nods and shifts on his position, taking his shoes off and climbing on the bed fully, sitting face to face with Kun. When they are close enough that Kun almost feel hot breath fanning over his face, the younger witch speaks again. “I’m doing this because I want, not because I need.”

Kun smiles.

“A potion. For Dejun, Xiao Mei’s child.” Yangyang nods, eyes shining in acknowledgment. _Goddess, he was so cute._ “They are werewolves. But not like the common ones, they came from the North.”

“There’s a difference?” Yangyang asks and Kun can feel it. Magic prickling under his skin, asking for forgiveness, reminding him of a promise made long time ago.

“Yes, the wolves from the south are more docile, the changes are simple and they keep half of the human conscious, it’s kind of a pact.” He pauses, expecting to see some suspicion in the other’s eyes, but they are neutral so he keeps talking. “The ones from the North are more… _Untamable_ , maybe. They are from the mountains so the Moon always has more reign over their nature, it leaves small space for the human part so during shifts they can get way more aggressive.”

“I see.” The younger witch murmurs, leaning against Kun, shighing. “This is crazy, Mei is really nice, she owns the market downstreet my apartment. She always gives me some cooking tips, I can’t really imagine her becoming a huge dog or something.”

“Why are you doing this, Yangyang?” He asks, because distractions are only this, distractions and he had enough of them. Yangyang looks at him and he doesn’t seem surprised by the change of topic but what he says next makes Kun’s heart drop to his feet.

“I lost my father when I was twelve.” He starts. “He was driving and had one of his “crisis”. He was always saying that he could feels things that others couldn’t. That night he was coming back from my grandma and apparently saw something, making him lose control of the car, the other driver said that while he was still alive he kept mumbling one name. _My name.”_

“One day later my grandfather died of a heart attack. But he left a letter, for me, like he was waiting for that, you know?” Yangyang's breath becomes shallow. “It just said that I should wait, that I would have a strange life but everything would come to its place at the right time.”

“And he was right because my life became hell. My mother started growing paranoic, afraid that I would grow just like my father, _out of my mind.”_ The last part is whispered like a hurtful memory and Kun can’t keep it to himself anymore.

“She was only worried, honey. She never really thought anything bad about you.” He says, because he already heard this story before, about creatures that were turned and didn’t know how to live with their human relatives.

“Oh, I know that. Mom isn’t like you are thinking, she was overbearing but never cruel.” He replies, looking at the curtains behind Kun. “But it still made me anxious, like I could do something that would upset her anytime. It got worse while I grew up because things just got weirder.”

“I started seeing things that only I could see. Others would pass through these people like they didn’t exist and I just knew it, you know? They weren’t alive. That freaked me out, but I couldn’t tell mom and dad wasn’t around anymore.”

“And then, the ghosts started noticing that I could see them, soon hoards of them were after me, asking for favours, demanding help and I couldn’t, because I was just a normal guy that happened to see ghosts, or at least that's what I thought.”

“It changed some weeks after I turned sixteen, my mom was calm again, happy to see that I wasn't becoming a freak and the ghosts suddenly avoided me like the plague. That was when the voices started.”

“I was in class and the wind just seemed to… Whisper things?” It sounds like a question, but Yangyang doesn’t wait for an answer. “I put up with that for five years, Kun and when I moved here, I just... Didn't hear anything, it was a blessing. And then I met you, God, I thought that things had finally settled, like granny promised.”

“But I wasn’t what you were waiting for.” He says, and Yangyang looks back at him, Kun thinks that catches a glimpse of green creeping in the brown eyes, but it’s gone before he can look closer.

“No, you weren't.” Yangyang whispers, looking vulnerable for a moment before getting himself together. “And that made me lose my mind. I felt like running in circles and I got so angry that I just… _Snapped_.”

Silence fills their gaps one more time and Kun dwells in what he should say. Magic made him a promise, but she never said how it would come. He steals a glance at Yangyang and when he finds the younger staring back at him with big eyes full of hope, Kun decides that he doesn't care.

He wonders if his impulsive decisions will come back to haunt him some day.

“My story is really similar to yours, except I never had parents to lose.” It doesn’t hurt him anymore, Kun had centuries to work that out on himself, but Yangyang chokes on his breath and seems close to a cry fit, surprising Kun. “Oh no, darling, don’t cry, that was a long time ago.”

He pulls the younger one on his embrace, smiling as the smell of strawberry shampoo fulfills his sense. It's been a long time since he smelt something natural, not magical.

“It doesn’t make it less worse.” Yangyang replies, and oh, Kun really wishes he could kiss him right now.

“Like I said, It was a long time ago and there’s no better medicine than time.” He says and when Yangyang shifts so he can lean his back against Kun’s chest, he feels compelled to let it go. He wishes he was this irresponsible. “Back to the story, I also was sixteen when I had my first contact with Magic. It happened in this same city, four hundred years ago.”

“I was just a scanny kid of the orphanage but I guess that I was well behaved enough to have a job, so they sent me to the bakery. The baker was a nice lady, fierce and had an awful temper, but she treated me decently enough.” His mind goes back to Song and he almost can see her black hair always tied in a ponytail and face set in an eternal scowl, he misses her. “My surname, Qian, she was the one that gave it to me.”

“I had a room in her house because she didn’t have a family. It was small but had a window that I could see the forest, it was really pretty, actually.” If he closed his eyes he still remembered the first space he called home, it smelled like pine, mud and something like heaven. “On the night of my sixteenth birthday, Song closed early so we could bake a cake for me but we ran out of flour so she got back in the bakery to get more. While she was gone, the whispers started."

"I felt insane. Like at the same time that I wasn’t myself anymore, I’ve never felt so good before.” He looks at the ceiling, a leaf comes through the window. “It was exhilarating, that was the first time I heard Magic speak.”

“How did you know? That was Magic and not just you getting bonkers?” Yangyang looks at him, brows furrowed in confusion.

“I just knew, but when I was younger things were different, Yang. Of course there were some who didn't believe but most people would pray to the old Gods and Goddesses, I was one of them.”

“Things didn’t change much from then, I stopped growing after my eighteenth birthday and when Song passed away I opened this shop.”

It wasn't that simple, of course. In the night Kun accepted Magic, she swore him a promise.

_It’s so cold and Kun is scared but when the wind swirls around him in adoration, he feels his heartbeat steady itself inside his chest._

_“I see what is not to be seen, my child and your heart cries for love. I can’t give you that myself, but tie your soul with mine and I’ll find the one that can. It’s a promise.”_

_He looks around and thinks about eternity, about the kids in the orphanage that still visit him, about Song and how every night she cries over a picture of a woman with warm eyes and dark hair._

_“Can you make sure they won’t ever leave?”_

_The wind blows around him, making his fragile home shiver. Kun keeps still._

_“Oh, my sweet child, love is not a cage, I can’t keep you from heartbreak, if that is what you’re asking.”_

_Kun thinks about it. He’s a man of love, he knows that, if he’s able to experiment love at least once in his life, he’ll make sure to love the rest of it, even if his other part leaves. He’ll make it for both of them._

_“But will you be by my side? Even if I’m just pieces to be glued back together?”_

_“Always.”_

_He can live with that._

_“I accept.”_

“Kun!”

He startles back to the present, where now Yangyang looks at him with eyes wide in worry. He looks all over the younger’s features and prays to the gods that he doesn’t leave, he may have Magic but after this, after seeing Yangyang, after watching his fringe fall over his eyes, his cheeks blossom in red every time Kun touches him, he doesn’t think he can let it go so easily.

“You’re so pretty.” He blurts out, because it's a thought that simply won’t let him go and it proves worth it of jumping out of his mouth when Yangyang’s eyes grow impossible bigger and he giggles, clenching his hand on Kun’s shirt.

“That’s what you were thinking that made you go statue mode?” He asks and honestly, Kun has no idea what he’s talking about but he smiles anyway.

“Maybe.” He leans against the other, feeling Yangyang’s breath hitch when his mouth comes closer to his collarbone. “Can I?”

“Please.”

It sounds small, and Kun knows they still have things to talk about, but when he touches the smooth skin with his lips and feels Yangyang whimper under him, he postpones any other conversation that doesn’t involve the sounds that are coming out of the other witch’s mouth.

Kun gave his body to others many times before, but he doesn’t think one ever had his soul like the Yangyang did.

He hopes he can keep it like this.

…

“I can’t be a witch.”

They are tangled in each other on Kun’s bed with their clothes surrounding them when Yangyang speaks.

“You don’t need to, I would never oblige you into something you don’t want” He says and he can feel Magic getting grumpy just by the thought but he ignores it, Magic doesn’t make people bow to her against their will. He can count on that with her.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I can’t.” Yangyang says, straightening his back and Kun needs to use his whole willpower to not let his eyes wander through the bruises and red marks over the other’s skin. “I’m not ready yet.”

“We can wait.” The wind comes through the wind and when Yangyang stares at him, eyes emerald green, shining in relief, he feels Magic get agitated and he knows that the sky is the brightest blue ever.

“I- Ok, yeah, that’s good, oh my god.”

“Goddess, actually.”

“ _Ha ha_ , you’re so funny.”

“I know, right?”

**Ten Years Later.**

It’s a rainy Friday when Kun finally receives his lot of Chrysanthemums.

It’s a good day.

He is mumbling a song in German while watering the sunflowers, thinking mindlessly about what he should cook for dinner when someone knocks at the door. He looks at the clock and sigh.

_He should've come back before the rain, the idiot._

He passes by his office and almost stumbles over a spell book. In the superior part of the book, two Y are sewed with red thread. He shakes his head and catches the book, relocating him besides his own.

The first thing he does when he opens the door is flinch at the person on the other side.

“Someone told me the prettiest witch lived in this town so I came here to check it and I gotta say, they were right.” The newcomer says, leaning against the doorframe with what Kun supposes was supposed to be a sexy expression. 

“If you destroy my carpet you’re going to buy another, just saying.”

Yangyang drops the attitude and starts whining about never being valued. Kun smiles, getting out of the way so the other can come inside, going to look for a towel right after.

“How was the city?” He asks while drying Yangyang’s hair. Something fond blossom in his chest as he watches the way Yangyang's fringes fall over his eyes. He can't believe it but even after almost ten years, when their eyes meet, still feels like a first time. 

His waiting has come to an end, finally.

“Chaos. I had to go to Guanheng to get Mermaid’s tears. Almost two hour of listening him whining about Lucas.”

“Yukhei is not open?” He asks, surprised, he can’t remember the last time the Selkie took a break.

“Right? I thought it was weird too, but Mei is looking for Dejun, so maybe they are together?”

Before Kun can reply, another knock breaks the atmosphere, different from Yangyang, this one is distressed and irregular, making the two witches look at each other nervously.

They walk to the door carefully, and Kun try to listen to the wind, but silence is the only thing he receives. Magic have been awfully quiet the whole day.

When Yangyang opens the door, they find Xiao Dejun at their doorstep, white hair dripping because of the rain and golden eyes wide in something akin to despair.

“Another. East. Coming.” He says between deep breaths but doesn’t move to come in the house.

“Dejun, calm down. What is happening?” Yangyang asks and Kun would feel proud over the steadiness in the other witch's voice if the situation wasn’t so serious. Dejun looks behind his back, like he's afraid something might catch him.

“I was running with Chenle and it passed through us. It’s so strong.”

“What is strong, Jun? We’re not understanding.”

Dejun looks right at them and the next thing that comes out of his mouth makes goosebumps rise all over Kun’s skin.

“There’s a new witch in town.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, first of all I would like to thank the mods for such exciting fest, I'm really happy for being part of the second wave! 
> 
> Second, dear prompter, I hope you enjoyed reading this story just as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, L, thank you soooo much for helping me and not getting mad at me for going to scream about minions with you, we barely know each other but you already have a spot in my heart. srsly.
> 
> And about this ...I hate cliffhangers but I have too many ideas for this 'verse and I just couldn't let it go, and I know I left a lot of holes in this but don't worry, they were intentional and everything will be settled in the next part.


End file.
